New Week. New Day. Let’s Go.

dress-fly-dream-white-float

A better me is coming.


Notes: quote: Standup Guy. Photo: Pink Daisy via MennyFox55

What I feel is scarcely a twitch

photography

I try to imagine the entire force of this storm flinging itself onto a thousand miles of Pacific coast, the multitude of gusts rolling over the land during every second of its passage, the combined power and noise and energy felt only by the continent itself. Listening to a single gust billow through the timber, I realize that what I feel is scarcely a twitch in the larger scale of things, like the swirl from one stroke of a bird’s wing.

~ Richard Nelson, The Island Within


Image: Endlesspetrichor

It’s been a long day

breeze-wind-black-and-white-dress

Each evening
comes from a new place.
Maybe this is the other life
we were meant to live.
It leans against you as the wind.

~ Richard Jackson, from “Fear,” in Resonance: Poems


Sources: photo – life is beautiful. Poem: to escape from the commonplace of existences

5:00 PM Bell!

wind-breeze-beach-friday-holiday-TGIF-T.G.i.F-weekend


Source: Never look back

 

Saturday Morning: May I move in time like a cloud

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Lord of having
Hell at hand
Lord of losing
what I have
this heaven now

may I move
in time
like a cloud
in sky
my torn form
the wind’s one sign

may my suffering be
speechless
clarity
as of water
in some reach

of rock
it would take
work
to ascend
and see

and may my hands
my eyes
the very nub
of my tongue
be scrubbed
out of this hour
if I should utter
the dirty word
eternity

~ Christian Wiman, Lord of Having. Every Riven Thing: Poems.


Photo: Sydneyrw

T.G.I.F.: It’s been a long week

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Source: Paper Ghosts

 

5:00 P.M. Bell: What’s that smell? Weekend!

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Source: mymodernmet.com

Saturday Morning: Listen. Can you hear?

fern-close-up

Can you hear the voices
of the ferns up-pushing,
the little whippets of fresh air
running through the trees?

~ Mary Oliver, Long Life: Essays and Other Writings


Notes:

Tuesday Morning Wake Up Call: A Gentle Take-Off

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Source: Julien Douvier via Elinka, The Unsuccessful Housewife

Again this morning, in a cold wind

bridge-cables-red-Golden-Gate-Bridge

Again this morning, in a cold wind from the future, I walked all the way to the end of the long bridge of my life, having a look at its cables, its rods and rivets, its perforated metal flooring through which I could see whitecaps slamming the pylons. Then I turned and came back, inspecting it all from the other direction, fretting about every hex nut and bolt though they seem sound enough to hold things together. I ought to give the long bridge of my life a little rest, but every day it seems I’m walking from past to possibility and back to past with my brush and aluminum paint, hiding the rust, the deepening cracks, dabbing a shine here and there.

~ Ted Kooser, November. The Wheeling Year: A Poet’s Field Book


Notes:

  • Note to self: Now. 4:23 am. 21º F. Wind, cold. 13 mph from the West.
  • Credits: Photograph – peopleus.